In The End
by Kajul
Summary: Buffy's death on a routine patrol brings dire consequences 3 years later *guest stars from AtS* WIP R&R Chapters 10 & 11 added!!!
1. Chapter 1

Title: _In The End_ by Kajul

Rating: R

Distribution: Ask first, then take, but I would love for this story to be distributed!

Feedback: nodbarn@yahoo.com It'd be great to hear stuff from everyone!

Timeline: Takes place 3 years after Season 6 & 3, with a few elements of Season 6 & 3changed to my liking.

Spoilers: Most of season 6 of BtVS and season 3 of AtS.

Notes: Not very much to tell, just read it and find out for yourself! There are some disturbing scenes though, and that's why I've decided for it to be R. Also, the chapters start out a little short, but gradually get longer. Not sure why, I guess I just got more into my story and kept writing without realizing!

Disclaimer. Oh. Yes. About that. Sorry ME. I don't own these characters (pout). Joss Whedon and Co. do. (Saying Co. makes it sound cool and special). 

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Chapter 1

The Death

_I don't know what's happened to me. Time was when I would have wreaked hell on a man like him, but – God help me – I've fallen in love with him. Instead I give up a way of life to live among those who would tremble before me. Now we're married and I suppose you could say happily, though if it were truly happily, would I be questioning it right now? Wait, that's not the marriage, or the man, is it? It's just the baby. I mean, what earth-shattering news! Of course I'm going to question things…right? I can't just let my baby defend itself; I've got to think for two people now. Everything will be okay, I know it will. My life has been perfect ever since I gave up that old life and began this one.  We'll live a long, happy life, all of us. Me, Isobel, and Xander._

"Xander, stop brooding, please. You're bringing us all down!" pleaded Willow. "It's been three years since Buffy…you know," she continued.

It was true; three long years had passed since Buffy died one night on patrol with only Spike. He had returned bloodied, bruised, and completely beaten – she hadn't. Spike spat a tale of a ferocious demon attacking quickly and out of nowhere, and in her haste to defeat it she hadn't taken proper care to defend herself. She died that night and the monster left no trace of her body.

In only a couple of weeks the world of the Scooby Gang fell to pieces. Spike left town without a word of notice, leaving Dawn not only with the loss of a mother, but then the loss of a mentor and big brother too. Willow left the college for a year, unable to deal with the sudden loss of her best friend before Tara. This time was for good too, and Willow knew. No majick this time, not only because she couldn't, but because Tara wouldn't allow it, not again. Tara had taken on the duty of keeping Dawn.

With the group in such disarray they had to lean on each other for three horrendous years. The world began to piece together more than a year later when Willow returned to college. Xander took his construction company to rebuild the Sunnydale High School, and Anya took over the Magic Box completely; Giles had left it all to her after hearing about his Slayer's death. His reaction was worse than anyone's, and he blamed himself, considering as how it happened after he decided to let her handle things on her own without him. Tara had remained in college and thus graduated when Willow went back.

At present day, Willow graduated a year ago and immediately took a job working as a science teacher at Sunnydale High, whereas Tara had graduated two years prior and had been working at a local community club as an art instructor. Dawn was just starting her freshman year at UC Sunnydale. Xander's construction company was one of the best in California now, but he kept it simple and in Sunnydale. Anya still owns the Magic Box by herself and keeps it as a quaint, little shop, where she is the quaint, little shop girl, since Buffy's death.

"Well, Will, it's not exactly easy whenever we go visit her grave," replied Xander with a snarl. Willow jumped back, sending a couple of rose petals fluttering to the ground.

"Xander," started Anya.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry Will, I just – it hurts is all," apologized Xander.

"Shh, it's all right, Xander," answered Willow. She grabbed Tara's hand, who was linked to Dawn. The three of them started forward, ahead of Xander and Anya, toward Buffy's grave.

The smooth hump of grass and dirt signaled they were there. A large block of marble sat behind. An angel-figure huddled on top of the marble, hunched over and casting facial expressions of distress, grief, and worry towards the grave. Of course the grave was empty, since the demon she had fought left no sign of a corpse – not that one wanted to be seen. The tombstone read:

1981-2002

Buffy Anne Summers

May You Finally 

Attain Peace At Last,

Wherever That May Be

Willow's straight-lined face crumbled at the sight of the grave, and she broke down into Tara's arms, crying. Xander took Dawn's arm and held Anya near his chest and let the tears fall. The mass of them created a loud fury of sniffles and pools of salty-tears. When every precious fluid that could be shed had been, the scoobies turned to leave the cemetery.

Two vague-figures scuttled about in the mausoleum near by, after having listened to the conversation. Not long after the gang had left, a cackle resounded through the cemetery, disheartening enough to wake the dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 Missing 

_It's good, it's fine. It's been three years since Buffy's death, no wait, disappearance; that's what Angel told me to call it, isn't it? It's so hard, having to watch him. I know it hurts, even Cordelia shows signs of pain. But Angel won't close his mind to it, he keeps searching for Buffy, she must have been some girl. I've seen his and Cordelia's relationship pass right before my eyes, not given more than a moment's notice. They still haven't confessed the love they feel for each other. I think that's what truly makes Cordelia susceptible to this pain, the fact that she can't share it with the one she loves, because it's on two different levels. At this point, there's only one thing I don't know, if Gunn and I will be fine through any more of this._

With Buffy's death, (which Angel ordered his employees to call disappearance), Angel Investigations had gotten pretty hectic. Not to mention, soon after Buffy's death, Connor returned. Connor had murdered Holtz after a very long process of coming to learn, love, and trust his real father. Angel passed up his chance with Cordelia while grieving at the sudden loss of Buffy. Cordelia found and lost love with others for the next three years, but Angel was always on the back of her mind. Gunn and Fred had grown only closer together, only making them care more about the love their friends were missing.

Time wore on them, and eventually they all drifted apart. Angel searched for Buffy in all the corners of the world, refusing to believe she actually died, yet again, that night. The search, however, was not only for Buffy, but also for Spike. Angel wanted answers, and he was sure Spike had some. Cordelia spat out visions left and right of pain, torment, and destruction, but Angel was gone for most of them. Gunn and Fred drew away from the rest of the gang and close to each other, fulfilling each other's needs. Wesley and Connor answered the calls of the hopeless, helping any way they could, and battling the visions Cordy was sent.

"Dammit, why can't The Powers leave me alone for one second lately?" growled Cordelia. "There's a prostitute, a couple blocks south from here, about to get into a car with a nice looking, older gentleman. Hi there! Oh wait, yeah. Anyway, he's got a sleek, red car, but he's not human. Oh man, he's trouble, hurry, go you guys!"

Wesley and Connor took off, leaving the body of the last vision-monster behind. Cordy sat on the curb after sort of pushing the monster to the brushes to hide it. She wept as she thought of Angel. He was who-knows-where right now, and still searching for Buffy, who was dead. Why couldn't he realize it? She was gone, for good; if she were to be alive, she would have come back in three years. Willow and them all admit it, and it was Angel's turn, but there was no sign of slowing.

"That one was murder," Cordelia heard Connor complaining in the distance.

"Yes, and unfortunately they don't get any easier," sighed Wesley. The two had pulled up in front of Cordy know, who had stopped crying. She stood up and wiped her face clean of tears.

"You guys ready?" Cordelia wondered with a sigh.

"Something the matter, Cordelia?" asked Wesley.

"Oh, um, no. I'm just a little tired, I can't wait to get home again," she sighed again.

"Oh, well then, shall we go?"

The three reached the hotel and opened the grand doors to enter. When they were inside Gunn and Fred came running down the stairs, Gunn chasing Fred. They both had large smiles and were giggling loudly, and Fred let out a snort as Gunn tickled her. Then Gunn noticed the three standing and watching and immediately straightened himself out and Fred too. The two cast grins at the gang.

"Here's what we could find on that demon you killed the other night. It was a Poilsick demon. They rarely travel in packs and most of their plans involve feeding on a magic-user of some sort; whether the object or person they eat is magically created or uses magic. But, like I said, they're shouldn't be anything to worry about, since you already killed it and they don't travel in groups," Fred said, handing papers to Wesley.

Wesley took the papers and walked into his office, closing the door behind him, prepared to do more studies on prophecies and demons. Fred looked back to Gunn and the two decided to walk home together on a midnight stroll. Cordelia grabbed her coat and purse and left the way she had come to return home; leaving Connor alone in the lobby to hear the footsteps and whispers in the back of the hotel.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Lame-Old Sex-Bot 

_Life's precious. Emotions are binding, and yet, freeing at the same time. People die, and people are born. Vampires die, and vampires are born. Slayers die, and slayers are born. It's nature; it's rules. It's those damned higher beings, who toy with the lives of friends and loved ones. But isn't that what I did, by bringing Buffy back to life years ago, after her unfair death as a result of Glory. It's hard after doing it once and creating excuse after excuse to justify it, not to do it again. It's hard._

Connor jerked his head to the door across the lobby. He tried to peer through the glass at whatever was out there, but the light in the lobby wasn't enough, and it was pitch black outside. He cautiously eased his way across the floor, heading for the weapons cabinet first. When he finally reached it, he stretched his hand inside for a crossbow or sword of some kind. When he finally got a grip around a long sword the backdoor opened and Angel walked in. Connor realized he had stopped breathing and let it return to him, loosening his grip on the blade.

Angel nodded his head to his son, and cast a quick smile at him. The love and warmth the smile and nod were supposed to convey never quite reached his eyes, and therefore Connor remained untouched. He watched his dad walk directly upstairs and continued to stare at the stairway long after his father was gone.

Angel went directly where he had raised Connor as a baby, not too long before the abduction and the hell that had occurred because of it. This was the one place he could sit and focus on his work; it's where most of his good memories were. He settled at a nice, oak desk he had placed in the room for business. He checked Singapore off his list of countries.

* * *

The mausoleum's door creaked open in Sunnydale Cemetery. Spike strolled out with a lit cigarette smoking up the night air. The mist rolled along the ground in an eerie sort of way as Spike made his way over to the large marble block with the angel statue. He let his fingers play with the etched stone, spelling out B-U-F-F-Y. His mouth twisted into a half-smile as he turned around and shouted into the dark sky.

"Spike!" hushed a voice from the open door. A slim figure crept its way out of the mausoleum. It was mystical as the silhouette reached its arms around Spike's neck and lowered his face to it. "S-h-h, you don't want to wake anyone, do you?" asked the voice, obviously belonging to a lady.

Spike smirked once more before leaning in to the woman's embrace and kissing her tenderly, then almost forcefully – to which the figure's reply was a giggle. Spike began to pull away until the woman once again pulled him down and kissed him back as vehemently as he had kissed her. When she was finished she pushed his head away, laughed, and stretched her arms out to the sky.

The cold air of darkness breezed around Spike and the mysterious figure, though they never felt a chill. Spike rubbed the woman's neck, fingering the bite marks he had pierced in her skin that dank night, years back.

"Wouldn't want to do that, pet," Spike finally replied. "Don't worry though, I've got the brains to think about things like that."

"You know I admire your brain almost as much as your washboard abs," the girl answered back. Spike's eyes opened wide. The figure pulled a small, wooden stake from her taut shorts.

"Buffy, what are you doing?" Spike asked, already knowing the answer and retreating back.

"You think you could just control me like that? You treat me like I'm that lame-old sex-bot you had that jerk, Warren, make. Well guess what Spike, I'm not some loser robot. I'm a strong, independent, vampire," said Buffy as she slid the stake into Spike's chest.

"Buff…" said Spike as he exploded in a whirlwind of dust around her. The breeze carried his remains flowing through the air, and twirled her hair with it. She ran her hand through her hair and transformed into vampire mode to prepare for that night's hunt.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Return 

Love is fleeting. It comes within a moment's notice, and leaves the same way. But for the one second it's there, everything is pure. An epiphany occurs, all is understood - bathed in the light of love. But that, too, only lasts a few moments. That's why the decision should be made to grab hold of that love; keep it with you for as long as you can. Yet, what if that love already belongs to another? What if the love I feel isn't returned by the one it's intended for? What if the circumstances had been different; what if Buffy hadn't died that night, so long ago? Maybe he wouldn't expend his energy, and love, trying to find her; he'd come to me. Angel…just love me.

"Papa, don't worry," called a young girl as she climbed onto a motorcycle. "Your motorcycle'll be fine!"

"Carrie, just be careful. Dark things flutter around during the night. Get the milk and eggs so we can make cookies and get home; no unnecessary driving," answered Carrie's father.

"Oh papa," said Carrie, adjusting her helmet. She pulled the kickstand up with her foot and started the engine. She pushed off the side of the curb and began to drive off into the dismal hours of darkness.

"I'm serious!" yelled her father, knowing she couldn't hear him anyway.

Carrie took a left at the first stop sign and continued down the street, glancing from time to time in the shadows her headlights couldn't illuminate. She and her father had planned on making cookies and watching movies that night, just the two of them.

A quick startle in the shadows near by made Carrie shake, along with the motorcycle. She regained her balance and continued down the street, glancing back, but seeing nothing except darkness.

The bright lights of the store were in sight as Carrie came down the street. She pulled into the parking lot, with only 3 cars there. She quickly went inside and hunted down the items she needed and paid for them. Her motorcycle was lying on its side on the ground when she returned. She tried hard to heft it up, but it was too heavy for her.

"Dammit," she said, standing back up and sighing. She picked up her groceries and headed back for the store to call her father. She picked the phone up and dialed her father's number after inserting thirty-five cents. "Dad?" she asked, getting an answer after the second ring. "Some jerk knocked the motorcycle over, could you bring the car down or something. Thanks."

After hanging up the phone she thanked the man at the register and went back outside to wait for her father. When she reached the motorcycle she gasped. H-E-L-L-O was scratched into the side of it, and the kickstand was lying on the ground not too far away. Carrie quickly picked herself up and turned to head back into the store, deciding it was better to wait there.

"Excuse me," peeped a small voice. Carrie turned around to look at this young, blonde woman who had entered the scene.

"Y-yes? Did you need something?" asked Carrie, only being polite. She wanted to get inside desperately, something just felt wrong. This girl didn't feel right either; there was an air about her that radiated something darker than the night itself.

"Hi, my name's Buffy," said Buffy, offering her hand to a shake. She was clad in tightly fitted jean shorts, showing her long, bare legs. She had socks and white sneakers on her feet. Her shirt was a light blue color and decorated with an assortment of designs, including a little angel in the top right corner – hovering over her heart. Her hair hung down from the back of her head, and even though there was a breeze that night, remained controlled. Carrie looked her over and then quickly shook her hand, nodding.

"Mine's Carrie," she said. She looked at her own outfit. An assortment of items meant for the stay-at-home-night-life. She had donned a pair of red sweats and big, white sneakers. Her hair had been fastened into a ponytail and a few wisps of it whipped at her face.

"Carrie, huh? That's a pretty name," said Buffy, taking a step closer to Carrie. Each motion she made was closely watched by Carrie. She saw Buffy take that step, and she watched her smile. She even saw Buffy's face twist and deform. She saw the monster this petite, blonde girl really was, underneath it all.

Yet, she didn't see Buffy quickly whip around behind her and wrap an arm around her neck. Carrie's eyes grew big as Buffy gazed at her neck. She began to shudder with fear. Buffy opened her mouth and bit down into Carrie's neck. She drank, trying to draw life from this living creature. Becoming more envious and angry when she couldn't receive any. Blood was life; it's what Buffy wanted, but drinking Carrie didn't help. She began to become furious, trying to suck out every last drop of Carrie's blood she could. Anything to make her alive again.

An arrow flew by Carrie's shoulder and embedded itself deeply into Buffy's arm. Buffy released her grip on Carrie and let her crash to the ground, breaking her eggs and splattering the milk. Blood continued to seep out of the wound in her neck, and Carrie's eyes remained wide and open.

Buffy whirled around and eyed another young female. This one was dressed in stretched, blue jeans. She wore a white shirt with decorated flower petals adorning the sleeves. The collar of the shirt was a long-v, showing the littlest bit of cleavage. Her shoes were obviously made for running, and were a black color. Her hair was a light red color and pulled back into a ponytail like Carrie's, but the wind that had picked up didn't affect it. She held a crossbow in her hands, already reloaded, and a bag of other weapons and goodies lay on the ground next to her feet.

"Back off," said the woman. She began to walk over to Carrie, holding the crossbow pointing at Buffy's heart. Buffy growled at the woman, but the woman showed no signs of noticing. She checked for the girl's pulse, but couldn't find it. She was dead.

Distress showed on the lady's face and Buffy realized what had happened. She grinned at the delightful thought of killing Carrie.

"Her name was Carrie. Pretty name. Kind of like yours, Willow," said Buffy, reconstructing her face to mold it into the beautiful mask she wore to disguise herself as a human.

"Buffy?" Willow said, her eyes watering up. Her chest shook with pain. She tried to gasp for air, but none would enter her lungs. She crumpled onto the ground and held her hand over her heart. She took her gaze off of Buffy and looked at the ground, confused about everything.

Buffy took the opportunity to kill another victim. She ran up and kicked Willow in the face, blowing her backwards. Willow's head hit the motorcycle and her eyes turned solid black, then white, until they closed and went unconscious. Buffy grinned and walked toward Willow. She bent down and picked up her head, leaning in close. She smelled familiar smells of Tara and Dawn on her neck. She remembered family members and loved ones, grinning while she planned their deaths. She morphed her face again and let out a scream as a cross was slammed into her back.

She turned around to face a young man with dark hair. He also wore jeans, though his weren't as tight. His shirt was red, and his shoes a gray color. He held an intricately decorated cross in front of him.

"Get away from her," said Xander. Buffy struggled with what she should do. She decided to let emotions help her gain the upper hand, knowing Willow would tell the rest of the Scooby Gang about her. She turned and walked away, reverting to her human face when Xander could no longer see. He could, however, see the red mark of a cross on her back.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 Remorse 

Things collapsed on each other when Buffy died. The world was shattered. I had only just begun to see the world as a place that accepted me. It was beginning to be my world too. The one person who showed me that had to leave. Why'd you go Buffy? Why didn't you take me patrolling with you that night? Maybe I could have helped. Or maybe I could have taken your place. You were my sister. No. You are my sister. I love you. Thanks; for showing me life, and just how much I deserve it.

Buffy raised her elbows in the air and grabbed a hold of her shirt. Straightening her arms out she slipped the shirt over her head and pulled it off, letting it drop to the ground. She tried to twist her head around enough to see the cross that had burned into her back, but she could only see a tip of the red mark. She grabbed the shirt she had peeled off a young, blonde girl, lying in a pool of blood near Buffy's feet. She pulled the new, skintight, black shirt over her shoulders and tugged it to make it fit. A slit of her belly shown because the shirt was just a little too short. Or maybe it was supposed to be that way, Buffy didn't know. The sleeves were a little uncomfortable, being long. The neckline was a large V, showing more cleavage than Willow had.

"Mmm. Looks good," said Buffy, admiring the curves that the shirt showed. She brushed at a spot of blood on the right shoulder, and sighed when it wouldn't come off.

* * *

"It was her, I'm sure," Willow whispered, her voice cracking, on the verge of crying.

"But Will," trailed Xander. After Willow had awakened, the two of them had returned to the Summers' house, where Willow resided with Tara and Dawn. His voice began to get whiney, not wanting to know that Buffy was back, but a vampire.

"Xander!" Willow snapped. "I'm. I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"It's okay. I-I believe you," Xander said, moving to comfort Willow.

Dawn squeezed closer to Tara, who sat on the other side of Willow on the big couch in the living room. All four of them sat, huddled together, on the couch, creating another mass of sniffles and cries.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and all the sounds inside the house were hushed. Willow pulled herself out of Xander's grasp and Tara's hold, and stood up, trying to peer around the corner to look at the front door. She took a couple of small steps and stopped. The banging on the door increased in both speed and sound. Willow shuffled across the floor to the door, trying to be as quiet as she could.

"Y-yes?" called Willow through the door, trying to reach whatever was on the other side. The banging ceased immediately.

"Willow? Willow is that you? Let me in, please, I need to talk to you," came a voice from the other side. Willow quickly grabbed the handle of the door and flung it open to see Anya's face streaked with tears. "Oh Willow! Have you seen Xander? Why are you crying, did something happen? I told him. I told him…"

"Anya?" yelled Xander, rushing into the front hallway to meet his wife with a hug.

"Xander? Where were you, why didn't you call me?" she asked.

Xander glanced by Anya and saw the rays of the morning sun gleam over the hillside. "I'm sorry, An, I didn't know it was so late," he replied, running his fingers through her hair and petting her cheek. She leaned her head closer into his head, feeling the comfort that had forsaken her that night.

Willow returned to the living room with the two trailing behind, Xander still holding Anya close to him. Willow took her place next to Tara again, and leaned in close, creating a symmetrical type picture with Dawn on the other side. Xander sat in the chair this time, and Anya sat on his lap, where he cradled her.

Willow repeated the story to Anya, and still had to restrain herself from crying with each passing memory of the previous night when Buffy tried to kill her. She broke down at the end again, and Tara snatched her hand in hers and lightly rubbed her cheek, kissing her lips softly.

* * *

Buffy stalked the little boy in the shadows, which were depleting thanks to the rising sun. However, she was trusting enough in her skills as not only a Slayer, but as a vampire, to finish the task before the sun shown over the horizon. She began to pick up her pace though, in case unforeseen obstacles crossed her path.

"Help," came a small voice from behind the boy. He immediately turned around and glanced at the shadows, finding Buffy right off.

"What is it?" asked the boy, curious of this lady hiding in the shadows.

Buffy walked forward toward the boy, but still remained under the shade of a nearby tree. "I lost my kitten," she said, glancing at the small cat the boy carried in his arms, "And I noticed that you might have found him."

The boy had only been out to get the paper for his parents that morning, like he did whenever he could get the chance. He had stumbled out the door, only half-awake, and heard the purring of a precious, little kitten down the steps of his door. He had walked towards the cat, but the kitten was obviously shy of humans, and had jumped back a little and made short gallops down the street, tripping every so often. He had finally caught the kitten, and was bringing it back to his house when Buffy had stopped him.

Buffy walked forward, now gazing into the kid's eyes, as she pulled the kitten from his hands who let out a sharp yell. The boy began to become scared, and made a startled fall onto his rear, making a groan as he landed. Buffy smirked and carried the tiny kitten's head in her hand, the rest of the body hanging there. The cat tried to make meow sounds, and even tried to hiss, but Buffy had its head held too tight to let it open its mouth.

The boy's eyes opened wide as Buffy held her hand and the cat out open to him, and began to swing her hand from side to side. A sharp, low crack was heard as the tiny kitten's body went limp, and Buffy grinned. The boy finally found the ability to scream within himself and let loose, trying to wake anyone that could hear. Buffy laughed at the boy's pointless attempt at saving himself, and used both hands to pull him up by his neck.

The boy gasped and struggled to scream, but Buffy held his neck too tight, and the boy could only make moaning noises deep in his diaphragm. Tears began to slide from the boy's eyes as he realized he couldn't breathe. Buffy saw the tears and lowered here offense, setting the boy to the ground and gasping; holding her hand over her mouth, she crumbled to the ground.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

The boy slipped to the ground, after the lack of oxygen to his body. He took deep breaths, trying to fill his lungs, which were burning. Buffy's arms shook as she raised herself up and laughed, picking the boy up again, this time by the scruff of his shirt. She let the demon inside her out, changing the features of her face. She ruthlessly sank her teeth into the boy's neck, sucking all the blood his body had just struggled to make.

When the boy was empty, she dropped him to the ground and licked her teeth, savoring every last bit of blood she could.

"That was good."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 He's Gone 

I returned. I returned with love and trust, and he brushes me off. I could hate this man, but I don't. I know now, what is right, and what is wrong. It took so long to reach this point, but I'm here. I'm ready to learn, feel the emotions I've missed out on. And he brushes me off. I could still be following Holtz's plan, I could still be against him. I'm not. Ironic. I didn't trust this man when I first met him, my father, but now he's the one that cannot trust me. But does that mean that he can't love me. Can't be my father. Or is it because of this Buffy?

"Oh and…thanks," whispered Willow, setting the phone down. "He's coming."

She turned to face the other Scoobs, but instead saw distraught faces. They all sat back down in the Summers' living room. In a time where good news had been received, hugs should have been shared, but there were only statues and silence, as the gang reflected on what was to come.

* * *

"What the hell have I done?" said Buffy, her calf muscles giving out as she crumpled to the ground again. "That poor little boy," she continued, "He must have woken up just a little bit earlier this morning to rush out and get the paper for his parents. To show them how much he loved them. So much energy and joy, just by pleasing his parents. And he saw the kitten. He had already fallen in love with it. Then I snapped the kitten in half and drank the boy dry.

"It was fun," Buffy said, starting on her feet again, but still a little shaky. "Dammit, what's happening to me? Why do I feel remorse? Has to be those meddling kids. I'll just have to take the Scooby Gang out a little sooner than expected."

* * *

Angel scanned through a large book set on his desk, looking for anything on Slayers. When his search turned up no results he picked the book up and threw it at the wall, leaving a small gash as the book slammed into it and fell to the floor. He picked up a book from the trashcan, determined to keep searching and researching until he found something to help him.

"Angel?" peeped up a small voice behind him. He turned around to see Wesley. Wesley looked shocked, his eyes a little wider than normal, and his mouth open just a little.

"What?" asked Angel, on the verge of breaking down, which was on the edge of attacking anyone and everyone, or crawling into a corner and bawling.

"Is there anything I could do to help?" questioned Wesley in his strong British accent. He watched as Angel continued to just sit there. Slowly Angel raised his hand and just waved Wesley off.

He sighed and walked out the door. This wasn't the first time Wes had asked to help, and had been given the same response each time. He walked back down the stairs and into his office. He sat back at his desk and noticed that the clock stood out on the wall, pointing at 5:30. He lay back in his chair and kicked of his shoes, getting comfortable as he dozed off to sleep.

* * *

"Wesley," was heard with a loud slap as Wesley awakened. He blinked his eyes a couple of times to rid the sleep, and only saw blurred images. He sat up a little more to wipe his eyes with his hands. Peering from between his fingers he finally saw the semi-blurred image of a long brown-haired woman dressed in tight jeans, a light blue shirt with the picture of a white bunny on it, and a jean jacket over it. _Cordelia no doubt_, thought Wesley.

"What was that for?" demanded Wesley.

"Well rather than say your name a couple of times, then slap you when you didn't answer, I just went forward with the plan and skipped a couple of steps," she grinned. Wesley just shook his head, both to regain his senses and try to ignore what Cordelia had just said.

"What's going on anyway?" he continued asking questions.

"Something happened in Sunnydale, it's pretty big news," answered Cordelia. "A six-year-old little boy had gone out to fetch the paper, at least that's what assumed, and was attacked by some sort of animal. They also found a cat lying near his body, but they're not sure what killed that yet, since it's neck is broken. That's not really their top priority at the moment anyway."

"People die from attacks all the time, whether from animal or human, what makes this so special?" asked Wesley.

"Well, it's pretty clear this was a demon. There's two holes in the little boys neck," replied Cordelia.

* * *

A shadow darkened the ground from the morning sun. A red haired figure stood under the trees and a glimmer of wickedness was in her smile. She turned and grabbed two of her friends who hid under blankets. Their skin was cold to the touch, thanks to the early morning. She pulled them along behind her, seeking shelter from the abysmal rays of sunlight.

* * *

Buffy sulked in the mausoleum she and Spike had stayed at their first night back in Sunnydale. They had just returned from Singapore, and happened to pick a nice little crypt near Buffy's "grave."

Buffy's shirt was off and she was examining the mark that Xander had burned into her back. It was almost completely healed and gone, given her Slayer healing abilities. Her muscles tensed as she rubbed the mark though, and she could still feel the pain.

She had spent most of the new morning thinking about what had happened while she was killing the little boy. She wondered if it had something to do with her being a Slayer. There had only been pros to being a vampire and a Slayer so far: double the strength of a Slayer or vampire, faster healing from Slayer and vampire, and increased senses. But now she was curious about the cons, there had to be some.

_Maybe my Slayer side has emotions about killing humans, and good things like that_, Buffy wondered. She was struck again with a wave of anger and hurt over hurting the boy. She folded her hands and sunk her head into her lap, crying. She had killed a six-year-old boy. She had meant to make it public, meant to let Sunnydale know.

She didn't want to be like the other vampires and hide in the shadows, make small kills until she was going to destroy the world. She had planned on letting the whole world know she was there, from the beginning right up until the end.

The emotion ended and her adrenaline shot way up again, forcing her to grin, even in her displeasure of what was happening to her. She didn't know how much longer she could handle being shoved back and forth between emotions. The sooner she stopped her old friends, the better, was all she knew.

* * *

Wesley opened the door to his office, leaving Cordelia alone. It had been pretty obvious that the boy hadn't been attacked by just any animal, or else Cordy wouldn't have even mentioned it. His suspicions of vampire involvement had been confirmed when she had mentioned the holes in his neck.

Wesley walked up the stairs to Angel's temporary office, knocking on the door. There was really only one vampire he knew that would have reason to go to Sunnydale, possibly to react over the loss of a loved one. Along with Angel's new attitude and uncontrolled emotions of anger, Wesley was a bit on the suspicious side. _Although, there is no proof that this was done by someone seeking vengeance on Sunnydale, it could have just been any vampire_, Wesley tried to doubt himself. It didn't work,_ but how many wouldn't care enough to try and keep it from the news, and keeping it from humans?_

"Angel?" called Wesley through the door, knocking again.

"He's not there," said Cordelia, coming up from behind him.

"Where is he then? Out for a morning stroll?" asked Wesley, a bit perturbed that Angel wasn't there.

"He left a note," continued Cordelia, ignoring Wesley's obnoxiousness. "He said he left for Sunnydale." Wesley's heart skipped a bit, making Wesley breathe in and out a little faster.

"Why?" demanded Wesley, in a sharp voice, "Did it say why he left?"

"He got a call from Willow."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 Same ol' Sunnydale 

Why is she back? Who did this to her? What a question! Spike. Spike made her into this evil, soulless creature. I told them. I told them not to trust him. He was evil, as much good as he "wanted" to do, he was evil. Now. She's a vampire. Because of him. That walking corpse, that monstrous being. I could have been there. I let her down. I let Dawn down. I failed. But I won't fail everything. Because I failed Buffy, I have to protect everyone else now. Including Anya and Isobel. I won't fail.

The sun sank into the horizon as Angel crawled up from an open pothole in the middle of an alley. Seeing Sunnydale from this point of view reminded him of L.A. He hadn't realized how long it had felt since he had been here.

He ran his hand across the glistening brick, still wet from the afternoon rain. His soul ached at the memories that were attached to this town. He felt like this every time he had come to visit Buffy in the past. He hadn't shown it. He didn't want her to know.

He forced a smile, but his insides were still torn apart. He shuffled his feet until he was able to stride down and out the alley, entering the bright-lighted city. He nodded a smile at a young couple coming out of the Starbucks. He paused a moment as he passed by the old mansion he used to live in on his way to the Summers'.

"Look, I know you only did what I asked. And we, we got what we wanted."   
  


**_"I never wanted it to go that far."   
  
_**

**_"I know that. It's not even a question of that. It's just, after ... I need a little bit of a break. Please."   
  
_**

**_"You still my girl?"   
  
_**

**_"Always."_**

****

Angel's insides twisted, but he felt a moment of happiness. He took off down the street again, passing by the rebuilt Sunnydale High. _Dawn must be a senior now_, he thought.

"I never thought you'd come."   
  


**_"It's a big night. I didn't want to miss it. It's just tonight. It doesn't mean that I..."   
  
_**

**_"I know. I mean, I understand."   
  
_**

**_"Dance with me?"_**

****

Angel gave a quick shudder, too many good memories were flooding into his head. But he couldn't remember any bad times. It was impossible. He focused on keeping the good memories away, instead of trying to conjure bad ones. He continued down the last street to Buffy's old house.

He finally reached the sidewalk path to the house's front porch and glanced up at the light coming from the windows. He glanced in the open window, seeing Xander and Anya with a small child running around their feet, giggling merrily.

A shadow. Angel shifted his gaze immediately, eyeing the side of the house. The shadows continued to move and a rustle picked up the leaves, shaking the night air. Then suddenly the shadow stopped and Angel could see somebody walking away. He stalked after it.

* * *

"Willow called him?" asked Wesley, trying to understand what was going on.

"I know, it's strange. You think she could handle a vampire, she's being doing it without Buffy for three years now," said Cordelia.

Wesley walked out the door, heading down the hallway. "H-hey! Just walk out when I'm ta…" Cordelia said as Wesley left.

_Why would Willow call Angel? As much as I disagree with Cordelia's tact, I must agree that Willow should be able to handle any old vampire herself. And why would Angel go anyway,_ Wesley thought.

"Angel left this morning, only leaving us a note. Willow called. Something's happening in Sunnydale. I believe, although without Angel here I have no clue, that something big is coming. Basically, we're going to Sunnydale," Wesley said.

He had gathered everyone into the lobby of the Hyperion. Gunn and Fred sat on the round couch, and Cordy had taken a spot on top of the counter. Connor leaned against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Dad's in Sunnydale? Isn't that where Buffy's from? Let's go," said Connor, not giving anyone time to even answer questions. He walked to the weapons cabinet and began loading some bags that Wesley had placed there. When he finished he set it next to Wesley's, also joining by his side.

"Wait," said Cordelia, "What if there's a reason Angel didn't want us to know. What if something big _is_ coming, and he needs us here. Researching or something. You know, the important stuff."

"Then you stay, and you research, and you call us if you have a vision or something, " said Wesley, knowing he had just hooked her. Cordelia sighed and walked over and filled her bag with a couple of weapons. She also slipped her purse in the bag, taking up a fourth of the bag.

"Gunn, Fred?" asked Wesley, nodding at the two as Cordelia joined Wesley's side, setting her bag down.

"We're going," said Gunn, speaking for the both of them.

"We wouldn't leave ya'll out," said Fred, surprising Gunn. She jumped up and headed over to the weapons cabinet, filling both of the remaining bags with weapons, surprising Gunn again.

"What about Lorne?" questioned Gunn, helping Fred carry the weapons over.

"He said he'll stay and watch the Hyperion for us, and if we need any research in the books here he'll do the best he can," answered Wesley.

Fred and Gunn brought over the last bags, and Angel Investigations headed out the door.

* * *

Buffy woke up, hearing a noise outside the mausoleum. She pulled herself up quick and put on her shirt. She crept to the door of the mausoleum and creaked it open. Glancing through the small crack, she saw nothing. She opened the door and took a few steps out. There wasn't a thing in sight.

* * *

Angel stopped dead in his tracks. He peered down at the woman that had just stalked out of the crypt. His eyes widened when he saw Buffy standing there.

**_"When you become a vampire the demon takes your body, but it doesn't get your soul. That's gone! No conscience, no remorse... It's an easy way to live. You have no idea what it's like to have done the things I've done... and to care. I haven't fed on a living human being since that day." _**

**_  
… _**

**_  
"Then why didn't you say something?" _**

**_  
"But I wanted to. I can walk like a man, but I'm not one. I wanted to kill you tonight."_**

****

Angel laughed at the irony, or at least he wanted to. He had wanted to kill Buffy that night, but things had taken an unexpected turn. Now eight years later he had to. Willow had called him, not because he knew Buffy, but because they couldn't do it. If anyone could, it had to be Angel.

Within his head and thoughts, Angel had forgotten to keep a watch on who he had been trailing. The shadows turned out to be three different shadows, stalking in a group.

* * *

Buffy yawned and stretched up, reaching to the stars in the air that were singing out to her. She grinned. A shout and a lunge when someone jumped from the side of the mausoleum.

Buffy raised her foot and kicked the attacker square in the face. A grunt was heard from the young man who fell to the ground. He wore gray, baggy pants and a light gray shirt with a horizontal, white stripe. His hair matched the night air in color, but the two others with him didn't.

Two women were with the young man, one with long red hair that looked remarkably like Tara though. The other had long, light-blue hair. The one with red hair wore a long, black dress with a slit on one side exposing the leg to the middle of the thigh. The blue-haired woman wore a simple pair of jeans and a solid black t-shirt, not unlike Buffy's own-or at least the one she had taken.

She smiled, morphing her face as she pulled the man up from the ground and dug her teeth into his neck, keeping her eyes on the two women. The red-haired woman smiled and let a chuckle out as Buffy spat out the blood and dropped the man to the ground.

"Vampire," she hissed. She snarled at the two women who had let her taste the guy.

"Go," ordered the red-haired vixen. The vampire and the other lady-that Buffy assumed was a vampire-lunged at Buffy.

* * *

Angel came back to the present. The shadows he had been trailing had made a reappearance and were attacking Buffy, that's all he needed to know.

He swooped down on the blue-haired, sending her flying into the wall of the mausoleum with a kick. She hissed and jumped up.

"What are you doing?" she screamed.

Angel morphed into vampire mode and spun around just in time to kick the male vampire, however, he stood his ground. Angel followed the kick with a punch to the stomach, and grabbing the vampire's hand, flipped him onto the ground, slamming his foot into the vampire's face.

The red-haired lady growled and conjured a ball of flame, launching it at Buffy. Angel jumped into Buffy, knocking her to the ground. The flame hit the side of the mausoleum, mere inches from the blue-haired vampire. She examined the scorch marks and the cracks, counting her blessings.

Angel smiled at Buffy. The two locked eyes and emotions swelled. The red-haired woman mumbled something while conjuring another fireball. Buffy's eyes flashed with pain and sorrow. She punched Angel in his stomach and threw an uppercut into his chin, causing him to launch a few inches off the ground, where she sunk low to the ground and kicked his legs, making him fall on his side. The fireball zoomed by overhead.

Angel's head made a cracking sound as it slammed into the ground. He regained his senses and realized he had saved the person had had come to kill, just as he watched Buffy run into the darkness. His senses became dulled at his failure and loss again, and the night became blacker as he realized he was fainting.

* * *

Buffy sat on the ground against a house, her face buried in her legs. She had just left her lover to be killed again. And the little boy was all over the news, even now. Why did she feel sorry about it? Angel could defend himself, and he was obviously here to hurt her, so why should she care?

She used the side of the house to pick herself up again. She decided to make things better with another killing. She walked down the sidewalk, waiting for anything to kill.

When a dog came by barking and yipping at her, she kicked its side with her foot and jumped on it when it landed on the ground, pleasure refilling her inside. She was getting hungry; she hadn't had anything to eat since that boy.

She searched and hunted for a human. She came across a teenage boy who was with his little sister. She immediately began seeking ways to drink them. Games made it more fun.

"Excuse me, do you have the time?" Buffy asked the boy.

"It's about 8:35," answered the boy, after checking his watch. He smiled at Buffy.

"What's your name?" questioned Buffy, leaning down to look at the girl.

"C-cindy," replied the girl, obviously scared of this woman.

"C-cindy," mocked Buffy, chuckling.

"Hey, leave her alone," said the boy, obviously beginning to be turned off by Buffy's rudeness.

"Oh, shut up," said Buffy, knocking the boy on the side of his head with her fist.

The little girl screamed and Buffy grabbed her chin, squeezing her cheeks together. The girl began to cry, one tear at a time streaked down her face. Buffy licked the first tear. She raised her head a little and licked from between the girl's eyes to the top of her forehead. The girl shuddered and made crying noises. Buffy smiled. This was fun.

 The boy coughed on the ground and struggled to pull himself to his feet. He turned to where Buffy and Cindy were standing, but no one was there any longer. His insides twisted and he got worried.

"Hey!" shouted Buffy from up above. The boy looked up to see Buffy standing on a roof with the girl in her outstretched hand, hanging by the clothes on her back. The girl's tears continued to fall, but she made no noise, as instructed by Buffy. "Watch this," Buffy continued. She dropped the girl.

The boy screamed, but Cindy's screams were louder and pierced the night. The kid turned his head, not wanting to see the fall. He turned around again when he heard a thud. He pulled his hands away from his face and slowly opened his eyes to see Buffy standing right next to him, so close he _could_ have felt her breathing.

She took the back of her hand to his face and sent him flying into a mailbox, cracking it in half. She picked Cindy up and morphed her face, sinking her teeth into the warm neck before any more blood was lost. Cindy continued to gasp and twitch, even when Buffy was finished with the second attack.

The boy stared up into the night sky, eyes wide open. Buffy walked over to him and peered down, grinning at the piece of wood sticking through the boy's chest. The top of the mailbox lay a few feet away. Buffy crouched next to the boy and pet his neck, sinking her teeth into him. She was almost finished when a tear slid down her face.

* * *

Angel awoke to three faces standing over him. The ground felt cold and hard underneath, and leaning up he realized he had been brought into the mausoleum. The vampires were with him, gazing down on to him, while the red-haired woman stood a few feet back. Her face held anger and she was obviously directing it toward Angel. He couldn't help but recognize the resemblance in appearance between her and Tara, but the attitude was definitely more like Buffy.

"I'm sorry," said Angel. Words didn't need to be spoken, but he felt he had to say something. "It's instinct."

"Don't worry about it," said the redhead, changing emotions quickly. It appeared as if she had just come out of a trance. Maybe she wasn't as pissed at him as he thought.

"We'll get her next time. But you might wanna stay away since you feel the need to protect her," said the male vampire. Angel turned his gaze to the third one, waiting to hear her speak.

"He's Mark, I'm Sarah, and that little goddess is Billowa," said Sarah, the blue-haired vampire.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

All That Power

_Why did Angel leave like that? Hasn't he realized in the past years that he needs us, and he needs to focus on his upcoming struggles? Of course not, or else he wouldn't be off in all those blasted countries, scouring the world for any source of information on his beloved Slayer. Dammit! How could he just up and leave us, his group, his comrades, to search for a lost love? This is just like the Darla incident, and here I thought we were long past it.  Some things never end. Take me, for instance, seems I'm still hunting demons, just like in my rogue demon hunting days._

Angel shook in his sleep. He woke up, but his eyelids remained closed, trying to remember each moment he had spent with Buffy to its fullest. When he mind refused to recall any more memories, he finally opened his eyes. The stained glass on the windows of the mausoleum shed a few droplets of light into the dank crypt, in several arrays of color. The light faded as he watched, letting him know that the sun was sinking.

Angel glanced around; checking his surroundings as he normally did when away from home. He saw Sarah's blue hair covering her face as she lay on her back on the ground. Taking a look to his right he saw Mark curled into the fetal position on top of a coffin. Not seeing Billowa, he swiveled his neck to turn and look behind him. She was standing against the wall, directly behind Angel, one foot helping her rest against the wall, arms crossed, eyes opened wide-glaring at Angel. He gulped.

Angel was so focused on Billowa's tensed muscles that he didn't notice Mark roll over and get to his feet in seconds. Mark stalked over to Angel and clasped his shoulder, causing Angel to jump and throw a fist at Mark's neck, which was blocked.

"Those vampire instincts'll get you every time, huh?" asked Mark with a chuckle. Then he continued with a strange sparkle in his eye, "maybe we could spar some time, I'd like to see how well you do."

"Ugh, boys," said Sarah, trying to blow wisps of hair out of her eyes; having failed she finally just used her hands to pull her hair behind her ears as she sat up. She flashed a grin at Angel as she wrapped her arms around Mark, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips. Angel's heart ached at that moment, remembering all the gentle kisses he and Buffy had shared.

Mark saw Angel's discomfort and pulled out of Sarah's grasp, reaching for Angel's hand. 

"Anything you want to know?" asked Mark, trying to put Angel at ease.

"Well first thing is, where'd you get your souls from?" questioned Angel. He had known it since he saw them attacking Buffy. They weren't just vampires protecting territory, they had a mission, they had tracked Buffy down just as he had. He assumed it was somewhat an idea of Billowa's to go on the hunt, only reinforcing his idea that they had been given souls somehow.

"Ah, should have known you'd ask sooner or later," replied Mark.

"It's a long story not worth telling right now," said Sarah quickly.

"All right," said Angel. He knew something was up, but figured pressing the question wasn't going to work. All he really needed to know was that they had those souls, how they got them wasn't much of a big deal.

However, Angel was a bit surprised that hey had souls, he wasn't used to seeing more of his kind. They seemed to be dealing with it well too, unlike when Angel had first received his soul. 

"Another question?" pondered Angel.

"Go ahead," answered Sarah.

"Is she pissed at me or something?" asked Angel, directing the subject towards Billowa.

"Why would you think that? Is it the angered face, the deranged look, or possibly the tensed muscles and glaring eyes? Nah, she's not angry at you," said Sarah.

"Then what is she doing? And why is she glaring at me?" Angel continued with the questions.

"You really wanna know?" Sarah asked a question of her own.

* * *

A single tear; emerged from the corner of a soft, caring eyelid. An eyelid furrowed with pain and hurt, yet understanding. It slid down a pale, white cheek and slowly continued, rounding the edge of a young face, making its way towards a centered, crumpled chin, shaking with grief. It silently dripped off the edge, falling down to meet with the dirt, and the hands digging it up.

Buffy continued to cry as she dug with her hands (getting blisters and cuts), a new grave. When it was finally big enough for the teenage boy she lowered his body into it, along with his sister's on top. Her hands fumbled and she let out a shriek as she tried to pile the new dirt on top. She slammed her head into the ground, trying to calm the voices in her head. The pain and sorrow she felt.

She blinked a couple of times and sat back up on her knees, finishing what she had started. When the dirt had been piled and the grave finished, she searched for some wood. She finally found two long sticks of wood, and a third piece, which she ripped into shreds. Using the shreds, she held the two pieces of wood together and tied them to each other, as her hand began to burn from the newly-created cross. She gulped down the pain and stood up to slam the wood into the ground, deep enough to keep the wind from knocking it over.

When she finished she pulled her hands back and gazed at the red scar marks on her hands. She didn't feel the pain of the burns, and only glared at the symbols of her deep-rooted sin that would be around as long as she was. She cried. Not for the burns, not for the pain, not for the little boy, but for the symbols.

* * *

"Why are we here?" asked Connor as the black convertible pulled to a stop outside the Sunnydale cemetery.

"Do you know a better place to search for a vampire?" asked Cordelia with a smile.

"I suppose," retorted Connor.

"Now then, everyone ready? I suppose we'll just split up into different groups or individually, as there are only five of us, and search the cemetery," said Wesley, already out of the car and unlocking the trunk.

"Five of us? Excuse me? You don't expect me to actually get out of this convertible do you? The ground is wet. And muddy. Puh-lease," said Cordelia sincerely.

"Cordy. Get out of the car, grab your bag, and search," said Wesley in a commanding tone.

Cordelia stepped from the car with a snarl and snatched her bag, mumbling about high heels and pay. Wesley ignored the complaining and turned to enter the cemetery.

* * *

"Angel!" cried Willow, welcoming Angel with a hug, "Come in!"

"Uh, Willow? I have some friends who are gonna play a little role in this fight too. They kinda need an invite," said Angel.

"Oh, well, sure. I guess. Come on in," said Willow to Mark and Sarah.

Billowa followed last, and made sure to shut the door. Willow, who was waiting to follow everyone into the living room, gave a shudder as Billowa walked by, feeling an immense amount of power. Billowa noticed out of the corner of her eye and gave a smile, which Willow noticed oddly reminded her of Tara's.

Dawn cleared from the couch to go sit on the floor, where Isobel immediately ran up and began to play with Dawn's hair, a gleeful smile occupying her face. Anya sat in the chair, Xander sitting next to it with his head resting on her leg, as she played with his hair. Tara got moved to the edge of the couch closest to the doorway, allowing the three guests to sit on the couch. Angel remained standing in the doorway with Willow.

"Ha-Have you found anything else?" asked Willow.

"I found Buffy. Then I let her go. Actually, I helped her get away from these guys," said Angel, his eyes starting to redden from holding back the tears.

"Maybe I should speak on our behalf," said Billowa, standing up. Another wave of energy shot was felt by Willow, coming from Billowa. Willow glanced at Tara and could tell she felt it to. "Where we came from, our past, it holds no relevance to what stands before your group, your tiny army. You hold power, and power is what is going to be key to this battle.

"Your friend, Buffy, as you all should know by now, is a vampire. From what I've been told, she was sired by a vampire named William the Bloody, with whom you have some familiarity with. I believe you know him as Spike.

"After approximately three years of running the world, she returned to Sunnydale to paint it red, starting with you. Recently she's been going through some very emotional pain.."

"Yeah, if you count killing a defenseless girl and a little boy pain," said Xander.

"Not to mention the little girl and teenage boy she just killed last night," added Sarah.

"What?" asked Dawn.

"Not important right now," started Billowa.

"Not important? How could you say that? You act like this is some mission, like you must report to your commander soon. But people out there are dieing, because of my sister. Because of what Spike made her. How could you act like it's nothing?" demanded Dawn.

"Ah. I see. You feel betrayed; I can sense the pain emanating from you. You trusted this Spike. Almost as much as you trusted your sister herself. And here he has turned on her and you. Well child, have no fear, lighten up, Spike's dead," responded Billowa.

Dawn gasped and gave a shudder. After hearing the news that Spike had changed her, after hearing it stated as fact rather than suspecting, she had wanted him there. She had wanted to kill him. To cut his head off. To slam a stake into his heart. To light him on fire. It was true though, she had trusted Spike, and it wasn't going to simply go away in a matter of seconds.

Dawn felt resentment towards this new lady. She wanted her gone. This Billowa felt no emotion, she cared for nothing but the objective; to reach her goal. 

"Get out," said Dawn, getting to her feet. Isobel fell over from the sudden movement. "Get out. Get out," she continued, her voice rising.

"Hush. Sit," commanded Billowa. Dawn kneeled to the floor, and feel back on her bottom. She struggled to part her lips and scream at this lady, to stand up and scream in her face, but she couldn't.

Willow saw the struggle in Dawn's eyes. She knew what Billowa was doing, but she could feel no energy being given off from the strange woman. _That kind of power takes skill and energy, to be able to confine someone's movements like that-she's not even giving off the slightest bit of discomfort or loss of energy,_ noted Willow.

"Hey!" shouted Xander, standing up, "Don't you come in to our house and start playing the voodoo on us!"

"Your house? Excuse me, correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't this house belong to a Buffy Summers? And isn't the vampire I am here to deal with, without causing death, without causing pain to the 'Scooby Gang,' the same Buffy Summers?" questioned Billowa.

"Without death or pain?" asked Xander, sitting back down.

"That is correct. And Dawn, I feel these emotions, but I don't let them control me. If I worried about every human that was killed by a vampire, do you realize how many tears would be shed? Do you understand how much power would be lost in wasting the time to cry for these poor individuals? No, these masses? Take these two for example, if I let the anguish control me on how many people they killed before I helped them…" said Billowa.

"Wait," said Tara, standing up with a sudden thud, causing everyone to jump. "What do you mean, before you helped."

"That's why they're here," said Angel. "One thing you've probably realized about these two is that they have souls. And Billowa's here to do the same to Buffy. To give her back her soul."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Comprehension

_Billowa has power. Strong power. She didn't even strain herself when she held Dawn down. But what's her purpose here? Is she really going to be able to give Buffy a soul? I don't see how. Willow and I tried plenty of times, and it's not an easy thing to do. And what about those vampires she brought with her? Can we actually trust them? Sure we've been told they have souls, b-but how do we know? I mean, there's just so much. It's all too much. Can you just hold me right now, Willow?_

"H-her soul?" gasped Tara.

"Yes," was all Billowa said in reply.

"B-but how? I mean, there's so much to it with the orb, and the incantation, and the body-taking over gypsy stuff, and…and…" muttered Willow while shaking her head and staring at the ground.

"Those are just silly things; gypsy curses and the like? Nonsense. True power is what is necessary here; power to control beings, to contain souls," continued Billowa.

"Control beings? Contain souls? No m-mortal should have that kind of power!" responded Tara.

"And what makes you think she is some mere mortal you twit?" demanded Sarah, causing Willow to jump to her feet as Tara glanced away.

"Watch yourself," hushed Willow.

The air became stagnant as Willow glared at Sarah, while keeping a watch on Billowa to even twitch a muscle.

"Calm," was all Billowa said. Sarah immediately eased back down onto the couch.

* * * 

_Stupid mud, stupid dirt, stupid grass, stupid cemetery, but most importantly, stupid Wesley,_ Cordelia thought as she made her way across the cold earth. She wasn't much for the dirty work, and having to crawl around the cemetery on a night when she could be out, rather than searching for Angel, wasn't her idea of fun.

"You know, just once I'd like to disappear like Angel's allowed to," said Cordy aloud to no one. The words struck a nerve in her, like any image of Angel did nowadays. Putting a sigh to their lost love she trudged on.

"A bit chilly out, eh?" asked a voice from the darkness. Cordelia stopped in her tracks and turned to face the shadowy figure making it's way into the moonlight.

"There is such a thing as knocking? Well, in a place with doors that are connected to the burial place of dead bodies," started Cordelia as the figure moved into the light. His horns made themselves noticeable as it moved across the clumpy ground with ease. "And I'm starting to think that knocking's not the biggest problem of mine at the moment."

With a shriek Cordelia turned and took off on the path that she had came on. She didn't get very far before a heel lodged into the slick mud and she came face-first into an oozy pile of dirt. "That's the last time I wear a Gucci shirt with heels while I'm traipsing through a cemetery in search of a vampirey-demon," she gasped as she pulled a large piece of grass from her mouth.

Glancing behind her, she saw the demon marching up to her, not putting any effort into the chase at all. _Must be used to this,_ thought Cordy as she tried to climb up.

"Whoa, Cordy? Hey, wait up! It's been years!" cried the demon. His sudden speech stopped Cordelia from taking off as soon as she stood up. She eased her way over to the demon and gazed into his dark pools that must have been eyes.

"Zack? Zack Marston? How long has it been? What's new? Besides the whole, red-scaly thing…" she muttered off. Being closer she finally got a better examination of his red scales, finding that they reflected black depending on the viewpoint. She horns were encrusted with intricate designs that flowered down onto the top of the demon's bare skull. The whipping she heard as she gazed at his muscle-thick arms came from a tail swaying behind him. It was much like the rest of his body except for the green, bushy leaves at the end. "How did that happen anyway?"

"Oh, this?" he asked, pointing to the horns, "Long story. So, where've you been? I just got back from L.A. Fabulous city. Bright lights and everything!"

"Really? I've been living in Los Angeles for quite awhile, I wonder how I ever missed you. In fact, I'm in to the whole demony thing, been chasin' 'em for quite awhile actually. I think I'm getting better at it too, with my chops and kicks," she said, while flinging her hands into the air and accidentally kicking tufts of dirt at his shins.

"Uh…yeah, I can see why the demons didn't really enjoy leaving the sewers," said Zack, going along with Cordy.

"Well, that might actually be because of this vampire-with-a-soul-redemption-freak I work with. His name's Angel, he scares the locals, but he's actually just really broody, among other things," replied Cordelia.

"Hmm, Angel. Come to think of it, that might actually be why everyone was afraid. Not that your 'fists of fury' are any less frightening," he added.

"Uh-huh."

They made their way toward the gates of the cemetery with only the swoosh noise of Zack's tail behind him.

* * *

"Pretty colors," said Isobel, pointing at Billowa's eyes, which had changed a shade of red when she told Sarah to sit down. Billowa's head jerked at the child as her eyes narrowed. Isobel walked over to Billowa's leg and gazed up at her face. The moment was frozen in time until Isobel cracked her face up and began to giggle at Billowa.

"Get this child away," ordered Billowa, her nostrils beginning to flare.

"Hey!" cried Anya, standing up outraged, yet at the same time, tugging at Isobel's arm to pry her away from the red-haired witch.

"This is a place of love, and I'm not feelin' it from you," said Xander, having felt he needed to.

"Childish boy. Spin off your silly jokes and laugh when no one else does, but I'm not here to feel the love, or dish any out. My matters are with the vampire; the outcome of this situation. To make myself clear before I take my leave: I'm not here for you, I'm not here for Angel, I'm not even here for Buffy. What I am here for goes far beyond your comprehension. The world is in a stage of danger, and if it weren't necessary, I would let this dimension crumble," said Billowa as Mark and Sarah stood up beside her. Billowa gave a nod in Angel's direction, then turned to Willow and snapped. A dark cloud grew from the air and encircled the trio, and in an instant disappeared, along with the three people who were standing there seconds ago.

* * *

"Oh God, oh God," said Buffy, sitting on the newly-toppled dirt she had made to bury another of her sins. The hunt had felt so good; the blood had been sweet and made her feel victorious. The night had been hers, the thrill exhilarating. Then came the darkness. Night flooded her senses, leaving her in a world of black.

The horror struck her as she reminisced about her recent kill of the biker-chick. She even wore the leather jacket around her, to help with the chill of the night air. She thought about the scraping sound as the motorcycle had fallen and scarred the pavement, as the girl riding it when flying and finally landed with a resounding crack on the road. She giggled at the thought of the blood oozing onto the tar, mixing with the tiny pebbles to create an elaborate design.

Then she cried. She smacked herself for feeling the joy of the hunt. She rolled onto her side, blood beginning to seep from the newly-created wound on her cheek. The smile faded from her lips, not even leaving a memory.

The dead look of the innocent victims flashed behind her eyes whenever she closed them. The screams and cries for help. The echoes of lives fading into the distance. The tears shed from the eyes of infants and elders alike. The pain of each sufferer filled her own senses so much she couldn't bare it.

* * *

"It is done." A proud smile followed by a grin and a chuckle from two others.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Revealed

_Dammit. What the hell's wrong with Angel, runnin' off to Sunnydale over just some vamp. He's got some serious problems these days. And I'm not sure how much of a strain mine and Fred's relationship can handle. It was hard enough when Connor first came along, and things had just started to get better, then that Buffy-girl had to die. Oh man, why does life have to go and get so hard sometimes?_

"I-if all that stuff she says is true, then there's a lot w-w-we have to do. So much to get ready for," said Tara.

"Do you really think so?" wondered Willow, gazing across the room. Instead of seeing a window and a wall, she saw a bright, white light. However, instead of illuminating the room, it instead cast a dark shadow over most of it, including Tara's face – now concealed in darkness.

"You still don't understand," whispered Tara, suddenly right next to Willow's face.

"Tara?" bemused Willow.

"It's all so simple," continued Tara, and then with a sudden gasp she crumpled onto the bed lying in the middle of the room, gazing at the white light and breathing hard.

"And yet, it's an enigma," finished Willow, wrapping her arms around Tara's neck. Tara smiled from the touch, and Willow hugged a bit tighter, then began to constrict even harder, until Tara started coughing forcefully.

"W-wi—" choked Tara.

"Would you like to know the best part, Tara? Here's where it all starts," snarled Willow into Tara's ear, thrusting her face to look at the light-wall beginning to shimmer and glow a dark purple as a figure walked forward. The shape was that of a woman, but the energy was that of something beyond gender, something beyond normal, human matters. She had long, purple locks of hair ending in bright-blonde tips. Her face was smooth, and her lips were a pulsating red, her look a vision of beauty. She wore a light blue, shimmering dress that wrapped around one shoulder and all the way down to her hip, exposing the other shoulder and most of her back. The dress continued down to wrap around her legs, finally ending at her feet, encased in glowing, silver heels. The figure stood enough in the darkening light that Tara and Willow could only see the bare essentials, and not enough to even cast a hint at who the figure was.

Willow shot up in her bed, and looked over at Tara, hearing her sobs before she had even had time to focus after waking up from the nightmare. She scooted over next to her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, holding her close to comfort her and warm her.

* * *

"With purple hair?" asked a crazed Anya.

"Ye—" started Willow.

"We saw her too then! Or it. Did anybody else feel the it?" asked Xander.

Tara nodded and gazed out the window from the seat in the living room of the Summers' house. She could still feel the cold skin of Willow's hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing harder and harder until no air coursed through her lungs.

Willow glanced over at Tara and reached out to pet her cheek; Tara jerked at the touch and Willow pulled back, putting on a solemn face. "We need to figure out what this means then," stated Willow, getting up and grabbing books to pile on the table.

* * *

Sarah grinned as she gave Mark a quick peck on the lips, leaving him wanting more. She turned to leave and he grabbed her hands, pulling her back to him, giving her a taste of her own medicine. She smiled and turned to leave again, but he yanked her arms and pulled her back. "Hey, I wasn't finished," he said, flashing a half-smile.

Sarah pulled back her head as he reached in for another forceful kiss, and she tried to tuck her arms closer to her body. Mark sighed and let go of her hands, allowing her to finally leave – which she did, but not without one more quick glance behind her at Mark as she rushed off.

_What's up with that lately,_ sighed Mark. _She's been giving me the cold shoulder a lot. Okay, so we're not exactly soulless monsters anymore, but we do still have the rush of the vampire, we do still want the blood pulsing through the vein, and we do still want to have what we desire_.

* * *

Sarah strolled the corner of the street, taking a quick right in the silence of the night. _Why is Mark so forceful,_ she pondered, quickening her pace the more she thought about how crazed he became when he couldn't have something he wanted.

Before long she wanted to return to the crypt, and she made her way back to the cemetery, sticking to the shadows. Opening the door, she walked in on Mark taking his shirt off.

"I was just about to come out and find you," he said, beginning to unfasten his pants.

"Mark, don't," said Sarah, brushing the hair from her face. She noticed the blue starting to fade to her normal blonde – she'd have to have Billowa touch it up soon.

"Dammit Sarah, how long has it been? Come on, just a fast one?" asked Mark, still unzipping his pants.

"Mark, I said don't," stated Sarah, trying to focus on the blonde tip of her blue hair, wondering when Billowa would return to the cemetery. With the last comment, Mark brushed up again Sarah and whirled her around. She brought her hand around with her and there was a sickening sound as it made contact with the side of his head.

"Ow! Bitch!" yelled Mark, reeling back from the pain. He reached into the pocket of his trousers, laying on the ground, and pulled out a stake. He bent back up and glanced at Sarah. She shuddered and tried to shrug it off as some stupid game, and if need be, she'd slap him again.

"Just stop it, Mark," sighed Sarah. Mark's face turned red as he lunged at Sarah. She cried out in surprise and slammed her knee into his groin, her initial reaction. He let loose a wild shout of disgust and loathing as he crouched down on the ground. He reached out his hand and grabbed her foot, pulling on it until she slipped backwards.

She scrambled for something to grab hold of as she fell to the ground, and instead smacked her head on a large, stone coffin. A bit dazed, it took her a moment to focus completely, and when she regained her senses Mark had already removed her over-shirt, and was working on her white blouse underneath. She screamed in panic, and squirmed desperately, trying to push him off.

Finally having enough of the squirming, Mark decided if she didn't stop, then he wouldn't be able to fulfill his wish either way, so he slammed the stake towards her chest. It pierced the skin and Sarah's head jerked backwards as she let loose a sob, finally pulling her knee between their bodies and pushing with all her might, barely toppling him off of her and onto his side. She looked at the tiny hole in her blouse, now turning a deep red, gazing at the symbol of death-so-close.

"I see how it is!" cried Sarah, jumping to her feet, pulling her shirt closed. "You monster, just because you have a soul, you think everything you do is the decent thing, the right thing. But I realize now, these…these 'things' inside us, they don't force good of us. You showed me that tonight, you creature! You want a cold-hearted enemy? Because now you've got one!" She threw one last kick into Mark's side as she burst out the door, letting it slam with a loud thud behind her.

* * *

"Has anyone found a thing yet?" spoke Xander, scratching his throat from having been silent for so long.

"Not a thing," said Anya, slamming her book closed, and picking another one up.

Dawn sat at the computer, the bright light illuminating her face and entrancing her, "No, but we have to keep looking anyway."

"She's right," said Tara, focusing on her book, ignoring Willow's gaze every so often.

"What's the use?" said Angel, an outburst unexpected by the rest of the group. Isobel giggled and clapped, running over to Angel and clasping his hand on the book. He pulled his hand from the tiny grasp and walked over to the glass-paneled door, slamming his fist against the wooden frame.

"Angel, we need to do something. Billowa said this dimension's ruin is coming, and Buffy's the least of our problems," said Willow, trying to calm Angel down.

"Y-yeah. We just need to sit and focus," said Tara, casting a small smile at Willow, trying to reassure her just as much as she was herself. It worked for Willow at least, and she smiled back, reaching to grab Tara's hand in hers.

"He-he, silly lady," chortled Isobel, pointing at the book Angel had been looking at.

"Isobel, honey, hush," said Anya; reaching to pull Isobel's hand back, when she noticed the picture she had been pointing at. She grinned and picked the book up, "She found her! Oh my God, she found the woman from our dreams."

Angel rushed over and took the book from Anya's hands, examining it in detail. "It doesn't mention what or who she is," he said, flipping through the pages before and after the picture.

"Well, do you really think you could find information on an omnipotent being such as that you hold a picture of in your hands in a book, did you?" asked Billowa, waving her hand and floating the book from Angel's hands to hers.

Mark stood next to her and glanced at the woman in the drawing, while Isobel walked up to him. "She hurt you, but only because you hurt her first," said Isobel, glancing up at Mark's reddened face, with a dab of blood and plenty of hand silhouettes. "It'll come," she continued," In the end, you'll feel sorry for it." Isobel giggled and ran back to sit in her mother's lap, playing with her mother's ears once again.

"Do you know who that woman or being or whatever is?" asked Dawn, still fearing the power that Billowa weld.

"It's not a she, you were right in your second choice, it's a being. You all already know who it is. I'm sure of it. It's one of The Powers That Be," stated Billowa matter-of-factly.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Help

_Why do I do the things I do? I continue to do evil, and I feel bad about it, but I do it anyway. Why do I hurt those I love, and why can I not control it? It's so hard to adjust to this sort of life; things were much easier when I could kill on a whim and not feel horrid about it. Was Sarah right? Does having a soul just mean we have the ability to do good, but that we don't necessarily choose to. I've never really thought about it. It's like being reborn, with the childish quality of either being able to save the world, or destroy it. I wonder which one I'll choose?_

"The powers that be are involved?" asked Tara.

"More than involved, they're the cause. What do you know, Billowa?" demanded Willow, turning to look at her, but finding air instead.

A dark flash of light deepened the air in the room. In a brilliant moment the air turned an intense white before returning to the normal look, but with the windowed-wall missing, and instead a dark light remained.

"It's back," stated Xander, standing next to Willow in an instant.

"The pain, the horror it will bring. But only because of her. Things weren't supposed to be this way," said Anya, coming up behind them. Xander lost his solemn face and gasped for a breath, putting all his weight on Willow while Anya examined a long, thin blade in her hand. Without warning, she too collapsed with a lunge for air, letting the blade drop and vanish with wide-eyes, just as Dawn stalked forward.

"She'll have to pay; for this dimension's ruin, the blame is on her," she whispered, then faltered and feinted backwards, landing in the chair of the living room.

"Just hope you realize which side we should be on when it comes," uttered Tara, emerging from the shadows as a figure began to emerge from the light.

"It draws near. Saliris will fix the mistake. It will correct the wrong path she took those years ago, as well as mine," stated Angel, watching the illuminated figure walk up to them.

It was not the same figure that had stalked them before, this one was smaller and the details much clearer. The child-sized figure had bouncy, blonde curls and a red shirt with the words "I Love My Mummy" printed on it. The child moved clumsily and stuttered forward, giggling and spouting about things being silly and pretty.

Within no time at all, the figure changed into the silhouette of the slim-figured enchantress that had haunted the Scooby Gang not too long ago; her purple-locks still shimmering, and her blue dress still flowing. Just as soon as she appeared, she disappeared.

"It comes," whispered Willow, turning around to the scream of a woman behind her. The picture frozen in time before her was one of Isobel, long blade in hand, having thrust it through a woman with long, blonde hair, was smiling at her mom. Buffy turned and gave one last look at Willow, with blood seeping from the wound down her stomach, before the light grew to encase the room, blinding everyone. Willow jumped up from her sleep, her head aching.

"It came again," wept Tara, rocking on the couch, the windowed-wall behind her.

"Didn't even leave a good-bye fruit basket. Hmm, neither did Billowa," mused Xander.

"Saliris. That was its name, I'm sure of it. But it tried to tell us somethi—" started Dawn, halting mid-sentence to follow Anya's gaze at Isobel. "Oh yeah, then there's her stabbing Buffy."

"Dawn, shut up," said Anya, never removing her gaze from Isobel's t-shirt, which read "I Love My Mummy".

* * *

"Zack, did you use all the soap?" demanded Cordy, rushing out of the hotel bathroom into her room in nothing but a towel.

"Does he even use soap?" pondered Fred. "What with all the scales, he'd have to use a lot, wouldn't he? Come to think of it, does he even shower? I mean he is a demon and all. I wond—"

"I don't know," interrupted Cordy, with a quick huff of breath," but I do know that I'd much rather be back at the Hyperion than this drag." She muttered the rest as she walked back into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

The door the room opened as Gunn walked in, giving a smile towards Fred. "Got some pancakes," he grinned. Fred leapt off the bed and swung her arms around him, giving him pre-pancake-kisses.

"I missed you," said Fred, tugging at the collar of Gunn's shirt.

"So I see," he replied, the grin never fading.

* * *

"Damn monster," gasped Sarah, breathing hard and crying in her voice," I can't believe he would do something like that. But I suppose that means I fell into the lie that having a soul makes you good."

She wiped the tears from her eye. She continued breaking the sticks until she had a large assortment of oddly shaped, wooden stakes.  She struggled against the urge to change her plans, the horror of the situation won. She resolved to have her revenge on Mark, and anyone who would stop her. She picked up three of the broken sticks.

* * *

Angel struggled to remain conscious, rocking back on forth on the chair. The Scooby Gang had all taken seats again, struggling to think of what had happened in the dreams not too long ago. Angel feared that many of the puzzle pieces had been lost when Isobel's shirt was looked upon.

A knock came at the door that made even Angel jump. "That can't be good if Dead Boy even gets frightened," stated Xander. No one found the comment funny and instead cast dark glances at the door as another knock resounded through the house.

Dawn slowly made a move to head toward the door, but was blocked by a quick movement from Angel. She steadied her balance as he glided towards the door, not making a sound. He rested in front of the door and jumped again when another knock came, quicker and louder.

Reaching his hand toward the door, he clasped the handle in his hand as it began to shake violently, and finally threw the door open, gazing at a bleary-eyed blonde-headed woman, who, shaking, lifted her head to look at Angel's eyes. She started to cry again and thrust her hands to her eyes, trying to push the tears back. Her face was full of pain and anger, love and disgust, and peace and torture. "Please," choked Buffy," Help me."


End file.
